


now lie in it

by nilchance



Series: lest ye be judged [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, what's a little breaking and entering between friends?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance
Summary: Asgore knows by now not to question what Sans is doing in his apartment at 3 AM.





	now lie in it

"Hey."

Asgore startles so badly that he nearly drops his tea.

Sans grins at him, leaning further out the living room window than Asgore is strictly comfortable with. Probably trying to see the stars. He's mostly a shadow in Asgore's unlit living room, and Asgore has likely walked past him at least once tonight without ever seeing him. "Y'know, you got a great view of the sky here. Shame about the light pollution."

Asgore knows by now not to question what Sans is doing in his apartment at 3 AM. He wouldn’t get a straight answer. He gets the feeling that Sans likes to know his people are in their right places. Or maybe he just wants to steal a midnight snack from someone else’s fridge.  
   
Or maybe Sans gets lonely, too.  
   
Instead of asking, Asgore sighs and asks, "Would you like some tea? I think I made enough for two."

"Can't turn down hot leaf water." Sans ambles over to Asgore's kitchen table. Predictably he doesn't offer to help as Asgore sets out another cup and pours for him. The cups are from Asgore’s favorite set of china: mismatched, chipped cups that Undyne painstakingly collected from the dump. "Thanks."

"Of course." Asgore sits across from him. "The human ambassador from Boston heard that I liked tea and sent over several kinds I hadn't tried before. I think she wants something, but it was still very nice of her."

"Guess you'll have to wait and tea. Hopefully the price won't be too steep. It’d be a real shame if she harbored resentments." When Asgore nudges over the sugar bowl, Sans adds an obscene amount of sugar. "Maybe she's just trying to sweeten you up."

Asgore has seen Sans continue in this vein for literal hours, although that's usually with Toriel to bounce jokes off of or Papyrus around to groan dramatically. He's braced himself for the onslaught, but Sans stops at a meager four puns and sips his tea.

Asgore considers Sans over the rim of his cup. "Is there something on your mind, my friend?"

"What, me? Nah." Sans turns the cup slowly between his hands, smiling into it. "You know me. I'm a simple guy."

Asgore raises an eyebrow. It's an expression he borrowed from Toriel, the eyebrow that quells every class clown. It's much less effective from Asgore.

"You're not buying that, huh? Heh. Papyrus is doing that road trip with Undyne, so I'm rattling," Sans shakes his leg so that the bones briefly clack, "around the house, is all. Figured I'd come check out the sad divorce apartment for myself."

Undyne's nickname for Asgore's new new home has proven persistent. Asgore says mildly, "It's a perfectly respectable 'bachelor pad.'"

"It's so cool that you just made finger quotes."

"The very nice IKEA people said it was classic."

"'M not judging.” Sans usually says that when he’s judging someone very hard. “Looks fine to me. Could use a lava lamp, maybe."

Asgore blinks. "What is a lava lamp? I thought humans didn't have fire magic."

The conversation is derailed for several minutes as Sans shows him. They're on a wikipedia article about the chemical composition of the liquid in the lamps before Asgore realizes how neatly Sans dodged the subject.

As casually he's able, which is not casually at all, Asgore says, "How long is Papyrus going to be out of town?"

"Couple weeks. He's having a blast. Think he's stopping at Mettaton's in Vegas tomorrow."

"You could have gone with them." Asgore has no doubt that Papyrus wanted Sans to come along, and that as much as Undyne complains about Sans's habits, they're friends. There's a reason that Undyne preferred to sleep on their sofa when her house burnt down once again, even with a room in Asgore's home always open to her.

Sans shrugs. "Three jobs. Humans take that whole 'showing up when you're supposed to' thing pretty serious."

Yes, and they've had that conversation before, but Asgore feels compelled to offer once again. "I'm happy to pay you more."

Waving him off, Sans says shortly, "We're fine."

Asgore studies him. Sans has had dark circles under his eyes since he first introduced himself with a handshake and a whoopee cushion, but they seem worse lately. Since the last looping days underground, in fact. Puns don't come as easily to Asgore as to Toriel, but he tries, "You shouldn't be, er, working yourself to the bone."

Obligingly, Sans chuckles. "We're fine for gold. If Papyrus decides to go to college or something, we'll talk." Sans takes an indelicate swig of tea. "You don’t gotta dad everybody you meet. You worry too much."

"Of course you never worry about Papyrus. Or Frisk."

"Papyrus is my brother," Sans points out. There's no edge to Sans's words, but then it's always hard to tell when Sans is genuinely offended. It's hard to tell when Sans is genuinely anything. "And you know what it’s like with Frisk. They get under your, heh, skin. But I'm not your family."

An inexplicable moment of vertigo strikes Asgore. He blinks, golden light in his eyes, and it passes as fast as it came. It felt like the first moment he saw Frisk in his throne room, solemn-eyed and silent, that feeling of _knowing_.

Sans is watching him, eyes narrowed, plucking the expression off Asgore like a bug off a rose.

Shaking his head to clear it, Asgore says, "Was that a reset?"

Sans sits very still, as if in judgment, and asks, "Dunno. Any lightbulbs going on? Any new memories?”  
   
“I--” Asgore’s horns ache. He rubs at them. “No. Should I?”  
   
Some of the intensity fades from Sans’s expression. He leans back in his chair, and Asgore realizes belatedly that Sans had come to point like Greater Dog. “Eh. Just a theory I’m working on. Doesn’t matter. If things reset, it's already done. No use freaking out about it."

Asgore exhales. "I will never understand how you can be so calm about this."

Sans laughs, a sharp noise, and drops his gaze to his tea. His hand drifts to his sternum, where he absently rubs as if it aches. "We're aboveground. If things reset, this is still a best case scenario. Anyway, you've never felt a reset before. It was probably just regular deja vu. Forget about it."

Sans's default answer: _forget about it. Don't worry. What's the point?_ Even before the resets Sans has told him so little about, Sans found some bleak comfort in assuming the universe is meaningless. Asgore can’t take that crutch from him, but it grieves him all the same.

"Welp." Finishing off his tea too fast to enjoy it, Sans puts the cup down and stands. "This has been laugh a minute, but I got work in the morning. Thanks for the tea."

"Wait, please." Asgore frowns at Sans. There is some unease niggling at him at the idea of letting Sans go. "Did you need something?"

"Do I need a reason to come over and creep around your apartment in the small hours?"

A little exasperated, Asgore says, "No, of course you're welcome to creep around wherever you'd like. I could never ask you to stop being cryptic and occasionally unnerving. For one thing, you wouldn't listen."

Sans beams like Asgore gave him a genuine gift. "Thanks, buddy."

"You're quite welcome. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Sure," Sans says easily. He’s still rubbing his chest. “All left, too.”  
   
Asgore hums, unconvinced. "If you ever need to talk, my door is always open."

“Yeah, okay.” With an extravagant roll of his eyes, Sans says, "Whatever, Dad."

Then he's gone, having had the last word.

Smiling for the empty room, Asgore says, "I wish you wouldn’t do that."


End file.
